


Ascension of Memories

by Krasimer



Series: Do Not Go Gentle [19]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, majorly au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 22:29:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5066977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with a headache one morning, every move you make followed by the wince of pain that is the grey matter residing within your skull protesting.</p><p>You go to work anyways, with your sister's promises that she'll meet you there, and she has not broken a promise in the entire time you have been alive. That is to say, in the entire time you have been her sister, since the moment you can first remember, she has not once broken a promise to you, not even when it interfered with a date she had been looking forward to; she has always rated you as more important than a partner in her long and involved love life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ascension of Memories

It starts with a headache one morning, every move you make followed by the wince of pain that is the grey matter residing within your skull protesting.

You go to work anyways, with your sister's promises that she'll meet you there, and she has not broken a promise in the entire time you have been alive. That is to say, in the entire time you have been her sister, since the moment you can first remember, she has not once broken a promise to you, not even when it interfered with a date she had been looking forward to; she has always rated you as more important than a partner in her long and involved love life.

The small studio you run is still dark when you arrive, but there's someone standing at the door, a thick jacket wrapped tightly around them, something steaming in their hand. It reminds you of the scene you had arrived at when Kivanc had his panic attack, even though it is different in many ways. They turn at the sound of your steps on the ground, gravel crunching underfoot with every move you make. "Hello." your voice is a little weaker than normal, and your brain is still seizing up, but you try to be as polite as the situation calls for. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Your name is Laleh Nassar, correct?" comes the response, an almost delicate female voice that sounds somewhat musical as it tumbles through the air to you. She pulls back her hood, exposing brilliant green eyes and tumbling curls of dark hair, a small smile on her face as she offers you the cup she's holding.

Nodding and pulling out your keys, you unlock the door before taking the cup from her, an eyebrow raised.

"It's Oolong," she assures you, still smiling gently. "And I brought it as something of a peace-keeping measure between the two of us. You see, there is something terribly important that I must discuss with you, Laleh. Or- Or Miss Nassar, if you would prefer I called you that." she brushes hair out of her eyes and curls her shoulders closer, as if she could hide if she tried hard enough. "Your cousin is some part of it, though he doesn't quite know it yet, and I-" she stands still at the door, talking to you from it and folding her hands together across her stomach.

You feel a little more humane now that you're within your workspace, and you tilt your head as you study her for a minute. "You may come in, if you wish. It will undoubtedly be warmer, and you seem to have a dislike of the cold." you wait until she's inside, rubbing her hands together and closing the door. "What's your name?"

"Callista Elizabeth Fields." she reports back happily, like it's the thing she is the most proud of in the world.

Her face falls after a minute, and she stares at a spot on the floor. "Although I am dropping that last name as soon as possible. My father and my brother as not ones I wish to be associated with, no matter how much time or how many worlds I put between us. There is too much that they have done that I cannot forgive, and that is part of why I am here today." with a deep breath, she looks back up to you, holding out a hand. "My deepest, most sincere apologies for what has been done to your family by mine."

Feeling your heart stop in your chest for a moment as you try, desperately and painfully, to remember where you recognize her last name from, you take her hand and frown. "You can call me Laleh if there's a less lengthy version of your name that I may use."

"Call me Callie." she perks up immediately, a shadow of guilt still plaguing her. 

With a short nod, you set the cup of tea down on a desk and guide her to a chair, your movements confusing to you. "What is it that you're apologizing for? As far as I know, I have never met you before."

"No you haven't, and that's part of why I must apologize." she pulls her jacket off, revealing a dark green cowl-necked dress. It matches the emerald green tights she's wearing underneath it, and the entire ensemble looks lovely on her. 

Cursing quietly, you apologize when your attention is back on her words instead of her clothing choices. 

"It's quite alright." she shakes her head, hair falling across her shoulders becomingly. "Considering what my brother and father did to your cousin and uncle, I really rather think that you don't owe me any apologies, not now or ever again." she studies your face, pinching her lips together and trembling all over as she waits for that to sink in. 

The headache is building in strength, taking over the space behind your eyes, and you can all but hear your mother's voice talking you through it, telling you how to breathe.

You feel as if you might be sick. 

What was done to your cousin and your uncle was a cold-case kidnapping that lasted for five years, with them finally returning less than a year ago. The sudden spike of fear in your throat as you back away from her makes you stumble, your hand catching on the edge of a table and curling around the familiar handles of your favorite fabric shears. "You-"

"I am so sorry." Callie whispers, curling her knees to her chest. "I know that there is probably nothing I can say to you that will make this all okay, but I must tell you that my family does not know that I am here."

Heart still pounding in your chest, mind racing as you think of every possible escape route, you watch her. 

"I think you should believe her." Elaheh's voice has never been so reassuring before, not even when you nearly drowned when you were a child. She'd been the one to pull you out, your mother not two steps behind her, and she'd held you close and kept you breathing. She seems to be remembering this too, her steps bringing her to your side and her hand on your spine. "As far as Carles can tell, the daughter of the Crime Lord and the sister of the kidnapper has nothing to do with her family's business."

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see someone else standing at the door, unobtrusive despite their height.

Elaheh brings your attention back to her, prying the precision-sharpened blades out of your hands before pressing a kiss to your forehead and muttering softly in your mother-tongue, one of the two languages you grew up speaking almost interchangeably. "I brought someone along with me, little sister." she tells you, the words soft and gentle, not as jarring as they would have been in English. "His name is Garaile Ochoa, and he's a friend of Kivanc's, and he has a lot to do with the girl sitting in front of you." 

She shuffles in closer, presses her forehead to yours, her eyes slipping closed as she brings her hands up to the back of your head. 

This is something she used to do to try to ward off your nightmares, and it makes you tear up for it to be done here and now. Your words are shaky, as if you are never going to be able to get them completely free from your lips, but you manage. "Why does Garaile have anything to do with her? His brother is dating our cousin, his father our uncle. Why would he chose to associate with those who bring us and our family harm?"

"Because he associates with her from before." Elaheh whispers back, her words soothing. The 'Before' she speaks of is unknown, but she is your sister, she is your family, she is your blood. She would not lie to you, not now and not ever. "You just need to remember."

Sniffling slightly, carefully rubbing at the small tears that are wreaking havoc on your makeup, you turn back to the girl and stumble over the harsh syllables of your third language. "Excuse me, Callie?"

"Yes?" she looks up instantly, having turned away while you were speaking with your sister. 

"Elaheh says that she has brought someone you know to speak with you." you gesture towards the door, watch as a tall man with dark curls and purple eyes peeks out at the group of you from behind a rack of fabric you keep near the door. "His name is Garaile Ochoa, and you...She says you know him from 'Before', if that were to make any sense to you."

Callie doesn't respond to that for a minute, a frown pulling at her lips as she turns towards the door. When she catches sight of him, she all but throws herself into his arms, wrapping herself tightly around him and burying her face in his chest. 

To his credit, Garaile manages to support her even through the obvious surprise of being pounced upon. 

Even so, he pushes her back until he can see her face, studying it and brushing her hair out of the way, then grins bright enough to make you feel like doing the same as he seems to recognize something about her.

"Hello Calliope." he greets softly, his accent making the words smooth.

She wraps her arms around him again, standing up on her toes to be able to tuck her head against his shoulder. "Hello Gamzee." she sounds like she's crying and you're still crying and everything is a bit of a mess. "I've been looking for you for a very long time." she manages, settling back down onto solid ground.

Something shifts, some moment of history writes itself into your mind as you hear the name 'Gamzee' and you remember a purple-clad body sliced in half, bisecting a manic grin that seems like a threat. Elaheh seems to pick up on something because she puts her hand back on your shoulder, pulls you back into her arms and kisses your forehead once more. Reality feels wrong, something shifting and everything feels out of place.

It feels unreal.

You black out.

 

When you come to, you're lying on a pile of fabric, your head supported by what feels like a rolled up swathe of fleece.

"She's awake!" a voice calls, bright and careful.

It takes you a minute, but you manage to sit up, realizing the additions to the room and smiling at some of them. There's a young man with bronze skin and a wild mohawk on the top of his head, his arms covered by a short sleeved button shirt but obviously muscled. He walks over to you first, kneeling down and offering a hand. "I'm Xochitl." he says, a smile on his face.

"Hello." you take his hand, shaking it once. "I suppose you already know who I am."

"Yes." he nods, settling down on the floor next to you, legs crossed as he leans his elbows on his knees. "I do. But the important things haven't been remembered by you yet, and I know you from them too." he shrugs. "I have been told that your cousin didn't do really well with remembering either, and I'm not sure if that has to do with what was happening around him or if it's a genetic thing, but I'm kind of making myself a barrier between them and you for now."

You blink, thinking back to what might have happened to Kivanc and then it hits you. 

"The panic attack he had, the one where both Elaheh and myself came running." you watch his face, can see the moment his expression shifts into confirmation and something that seems hopeful. "Is this something similar?"

Xochitl nods again.

"How exactly are you involved here?" you ask before you can stop yourself, wincing at how rude the question seems when you think about it for just a second longer. 

He only smiles, doesn't seem offended or put off. "I'm dating Garaile." he turns a lovely shade of pink, brushing a hand through his mohawk. "There are other people I would suggest you find, but you wouldn't remember them, so it wouldn't really help..."

There's something about him, something that seems familiar and memorable, like it should be just right there, but it isn't.  
When you move to stand, he offers an arm for you to pull yourself up on, which you take gratefully. The two of you wander back over to the main group and he pulls away a few feet, letting your sister wrap her arm around your shoulders and then there's more arms wrapping around your waist and a familiar body pressed against you in a tight hug. "Kadri?" you ask quietly, pulling back just enough to see the neatly brushed hair of your older cousin. 

His shoulders shake as he hugs you even closer.

He is nine months returned from captivity, and he seems just as he did before he and his father vanished. "Are you alright, Laleh?" he asks, finally pulling away, one hand wiping at his tears as he looks up at you. His eyes are wide, still that dark brown that looks almost red in the right light, and you can feel something inside of you shift.

"I am well." you assure him, managing a smile. "Is Kivanc here as well?"

"He still has classes to attend." Kadri answers softly, taking your hands in his own and simply holding them for a minute. "He will be here when he can be, but for now he is distracted. There is also the young man he is dating."

You smile. "I have met John." 

"He is a darling." Kadri laughs, guiding you over to a chair and settling you into it. "But I suspect that there is something you don't know about him and he keeps it from you."

"I often get the feeling." 

He kneels before you, takes your hands again. He reminds you of your father in these moments, the softness of his smile, the fondness that crinkles around his eyes. Kadri is your cousin, one of the few family members your mother still associates with after having moved from her home. His father had followed his sister-in-law when she had made the announcement that she was leaving, the loss of her husband too much.

Their family was lucky.

"I am not able to tell you what is missing," he begins, voice gentle as he looks up at you, his eyes holding a plea for you to understand. "Nor is Elaheh." Sometime between when he first greeted you and now, he has switched to the language you both share as a mother tongue. "But please, understand that we only want your safety and sanity intact." he tightens his grip on your hands for a moment. "Laleh, please understand." 

"I do, cousin." you assure him, looking up to see Elaheh watching the entire interaction. 

Behind him, off to one side, is Garaile's older brother, watching the three of you carefully. There is something like worry in his eyes, a mixture of terror and hope warring inside of him. When he sees you looking, he waves, a small smile twitching at the edge of his mouth. "Everyone in this room remembers this 'Before' except for me." you mutter, feeling the bitterness of the words as they leave you.

"We're not going to lie to you." Callie finally speaks up again, her hair brushed down over one shoulder. "We do know."

"If I don't remember, why did you come to see me?"

Her expression darkens, a slow snarl pulling at her lips. "My father and brother feel insulted by the loss of the people they dragged into captivity years ago. It is on good information given to me by a loyal member of my father's...Group," she swallows, her eyes nervous but her voice seeming to be made of steel. "That he wishes to recapture them and anyone connected with them."

"Loyal to you or your father?" Garaile asks, leaning against the wall next to his brother, arms crossed over his chest.

He and his brother tower over the rest of the gathered people taking up room in your workspace, and you watch both of them nervously. Garaile is the one of the two of them that makes you nervous, but you have a suspicion that Carles is not to be taken as anything less than a similar threat.

"Loyal enough to me to warn me." Callie says after a moment. Her hands are tucked into her elbows, her entire posture skewing towards nervous. "My father is not a good man, he holds grudges and- I saw him kill someone. I have always known that he wasn't completely law abiding, but to have someone murdered because they let two people he shouldn't have been anywhere near in the first place escape?"

"So you're willing to stand by for the initial kidnapping, but the murder of-" your temper is flaring, you can feel the loss of control you know is happening, but you can't stop yourself. Your head hurts, your cousins are being threatened, and there is nothing you want to say other than the angry words spilling out of you. "The murder of someone who chose that life? That's what makes you run from it?"

Callie looks at you, her eyes wide. "I didn't know until I saw my father berating the man. He said something about the Burakgazi family, about 'The two that got away', and that is a name I remember." she swallows, unfolds slightly, clasps her hands together before she speaks again. "My father pulled out a gun and shot the man. I came to find you and your family, to warn you."

Elaheh puts a hand over your mouth before you can say anything else. "We are grateful for the warning." she says softly, drawing a breath in through her nose. "Despite the day having started, I am going to take my sister home."

Standing up slowly, Kadri takes your hand in his own and sighs. "We should call Kivanc and John." he mutters as the two of them lead you out of your workshop. You know better than to argue with Elaheh, once she says something, her word is law and her mind is made up. "If there is a threat against us, they're going to need to be on the lookout." he turns, takes Carles's hand in his own when the man walks close enough.

When you and the others get to your car, the others exchange glances before Elaheh opens the backdoor for you, ushering you in with a small smile. 

You know it's childish, but you cross your arms over your chest and pout as she gets into the front and starts it up. You've never been quite sure when she picked up the ability to slip things out of pockets without notice, but it worries you a little.

 

^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^

 

"Oh, little sweetlings," your mother greets when she opens the door, a smile on her face and her arms open to draw you in. 

The tension of the day, the headache that was building in the ride back home, the worry over the various members of your family- All of it lands on you at once, like a fall of snow off a roof, some insignificant twig moving out of place and proving to be the most important. You pause for a moment, look between your mother and your sister, then dive into the relative safety of your mother's embrace, curling your fingers into her shirt and holding on as tightly as you can. It takes you a few minutes to realize, but you're shaking.

Her hands buried in your hair, your mother pulls you even closer, a soothing kiss placed on the crown of your head. "Oh, but my little one, what is it that makes you weep so?" she whispers in the language of the ones who came before you.

You think Elaheh replies, but you can't be sure.

There's static in your mind, a sort of white noise that does nothing but hurt you. You can remember seeing blood on your hands, large amounts that would certainly mean death for the one it came from.  
You think it might be your own.

And then the memory shifts, there must be something wrong with you because your skin in the memory appears grey for a moment, the blood green, a chainsaw close at hand that makes you wish for nothing more than a violence that you cannot remember ever having felt before. The press of your mother's neck against your nose becomes the point of focus to which you cling and you try to take a deep breath only for it to fail. 

When you become aware again, you're sitting on the couch in the living room, legs propped up on the arm of it.

There's a woman with a wild bush of hair hanging around her face in the chair opposite you, pressing her lips together as she watches you for a moment. "Demetria?" she calls out, still watching you. Her nails are painted a shade of blue that matches her eyes, the curls of dark blonde that surround her face contrasting nicely. "Demetria, your youngest is awake!"

Your mother comes bustling back through the door, carrying a towel-wrapped bundle, kneeling down in front of you and offering it. "You hit your wrist on the way down, Laleh." she explains. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore." you mutter, wrapping the icepack carefully around your hand. Once it was pointed out, it ached fiercely. "Who-" you gesture towards the other woman slowly, still trying to blink away the after effects of fainting twice in one day. Your stomach lurches when you try to sit up, causing everything to come to a standstill as you curl around your middle and groan unhappily.

"Her name is Adradrianna Sussner." your mother's cheeks are flushed, almost embarrassed. 

You meet Adradrianna's eyes, managing a small smile as you nod at her. "Forgive me for not greeting you properly." you practically hiss out the words, nausea threatening to turn into a full system purge. 

"You really are Dem's daughter, aren't you?" Adradrianna scoots out of her chair and comes closer, kneeling down next to your mother and wrapping their hands together. The sight of it makes your memory click back into place, the few mentions of your mother seeing someone for the first time since your father died.

"Are you the one she has been seeing?" you ask quietly, already knowing the answer.

They both look somewhat guilty and now Miss Sussner looks embarrassed as well, swallowing nervously before nodding. "I am, yeah. Anything you want to know about me? We were planning on doing the meet-and-greet thing today anyways."

It makes you smile.

"Do you have children as well?" you manage to ask without feeling like you're going to lose everything you ate this morning. 

"I have two, like your little family unit." she leans back and digs into her pocket, pulling out a black leather wallet and flipping it open. On one of the flaps, inside a plastic insert, is a picture of her and two young women. "Ananda, my oldest, is turning thirty-two this year. My youngest is Vanessa, and she's turning twenty."

You raise an eyebrow. "I believe I may know how the two of you met." you laugh a little as you realize why Adradrianna's eldest looks familiar. "Ananda is Elaheh's partner."

"Yep!" she laughs, reaching up to pat gently at your shoulder. "We met because they both needed a ride to their date and we dropped them off around the same time. I got a pretty woman's number and the information about the girl dating my daughter." she wraps an arm around your mother's shoulder, nudging her nose into her cheek. "Really glad I didn't make Ananda take a bus." she pauses, then nods. "Really glad I had time to drive her that day."

"They've been together for a long time." you murmur, looking at the happy smile on your mother's face. "Since Elaheh was fifteen, correct?"

"Yeah." Adradrianna sneaks in a peck on your mother's cheek before she turns back to you. "Ananda turned fifteen a month after they started dating." she pauses, then nods. "Most of your life has been seeing the two of them together."

"It makes me happy." you feel like you're floating, and when the black rushes up to meet you again, you let it pull you back down.

As if it's waiting for you, behind your eyelids, you slip into a dream.

 

"I was wondering when you would come to see me." says the woman with blood red dripping off the ends of her hair.

You watch her for a moment, watch the way her hands shift over the collection of weapons spread out before her, each one giving off a deadly gleam in the light. Everything around you glitters, every inch of each building down to the hinges on the doors. It seems impractical, having that much gold formed into a building.

As if she can read your mind, she chuckles, a smirk pulling at her lips. "It's not exactly gold. It is the color of, but paint can be used to mimic." she raises her head and looks at you, her orange eyes almost predatory. "Don't worry, you're one of mine. If I can prevent harm to you, then I will."

Surprisingly, that settles the rapid pounding in your chest.

"Where are we?" you ask, feeling something poking into your lips as they form the question. "Why is this place- Well..." you swallow, just a little nervous still as you try to figure out how to ask without offending. "Why does this place look like this?"

She props her head in her hand, elbow braced against her knee. Her other hand is resting on the spot where her ankles cross, and she looks deceptively relaxed. "This is Prospit." she answers softly. "This is my moon, once destroyed and now restored. There is no more game, there is nothing more to happen, but the Dreamers will always need a place to go." she pauses, then tilts her head down and looks up at you through her eyelashes. "Especially those like you, those who have been displaced and changed."

In one smooth motion, she rises to her full height, rolling up onto the balls of her feet and stretching her spine before settling down and cocking a hip, one hand slipping down to rest on it. "There is still much to be fixed before there is fully peace." she whispers, her voice carrying to you only because of a breeze.

Something tugs at you, a deeply buried memory of-

"I thought that Prospit's alignment was Order." you nearly claw a line down your face in your haste to cover your mouth.  
She laughs, endlessly amused, then holds out a hand for you to take. "Darling Kanaya," she starts walking, leading you by the hand. "Even Order needs Chaos sometimes. If we are to ever fix what is wrong, then we need to break down a few things first." 

It seems only a few seconds later, but the two of you are at the top of a cliff, facing a telescope that is pointed at the sky. 

You swallow nervously. "...Is Derse- I mean to say, has it been restored as well?"

The memory of warm hands pressing against your skin sticks out the most, even when you don't know who it is, when it happened, or how. All you know is that it makes your breath freeze in your throat, each moment feeling like a taut bowstring. Sense memory tells you what a pair of lips against yours feels like, what someone's breath smells like when they are drunk. It feels like you've almost reached something, grasping for some moment that you can't clearly hold on to before it slips away.

There are flowers surrounding you, golden roses lining the path that She walked you up. 

"Derse survives the same as Prospit does." she whispers, urging you towards the device in front of you. "Go on, look through it. There are enough people like you without their memory, we must fix that. There is no reason for someone who has suffered so much to continue doing so."

Your hands touch the metal, heart pounding once more as you bend to look through the lense.

Before you can see what she wants you to see in the sky above, someone calls you a name that you remember belongs to you, but it still doesn't sound right. "Laleh!" they call insistently, a hand on your shoulder, your entire body being rocked back and forth.

"Laleh, you need to-"

 

"-Wake up, little sister!"

"Elaheh..." you groan out your sister's name, sitting up slowly and rubbing at your mouth. You must have drooled in your sleep: There's a small wet spot below where your mouth was and your tongue tastes sour because you fell asleep without brushing your teeth. You look down and grumble as you look at your clothes, then pat at the couch cushions.

Elaheh offers you your watch, smiling. "Looking for this?"

There's a nagging feeling that you've forgotten something, lost track of something much more important than a watch. "Yes, thank you." you slip the band back on, tightening the straps expertly and accepting your sister's hand when she holds it out to help you up. "How long was I sleeping?"

"About eight hours." she answers promptly, running her fingers through your hair to settle it back into place. "Mom said to let you sleep, and obviously you needed it."

She ruffles the edges and laughs when you swat her hands away. 

"Anyways," she continues. "Ananda drove up with her sister, so that we can have a 'This might as well be your step-sister' dinner thing with all the cousins and the uncle." she nudges you towards the stairs. "Go get dressed and be all prettied up for company. Mom isn't requiring it, but I know you want to look your best instead of like you settled into a miniature coma."

You smile at her, then ascend the stairs, humming as you go. 

You're still feeling like you've forgotten something important, some detail that you desperately needed to remember. It tugs at your mind as you strip out of the clothes you slept in and pull on something else. The black shirt you've picked is layered under a purple bodice sort of thing, and you add black pants with red stripes running down the legs before you give yourself a nod in the mirror.

The jade-green lipstick is an afterthought, but it makes the rest of it feel right.

Your necklace slides back into place, knocking against your collarbone before settling in between them. It almost looks like it's part of your shirt for a moment, and you set the tube of lipstick back down, fingers wrapping around it as you contemplate it.

You shrug it off and turned to pull back on the shoes you had set out of the house wearing that morning: They're tucked just inside the door of your room, which means that either your mother or your sister had pulled them off of your feet and brought them up so that you could sleep comfortably. You need to remember to thank them.

Walking down the stairs again, you keep a hand on the banister. 

There's a small grouping of bruises on your wrist from where you hit it against something earlier, but other than that, there is nothing that suggests you were at anything less than your best.

"You okay?" someone calls up to you.

Their voice seems familiar, but you know you've never heard it before. When you look, it's a girl with blonde hair pulled back into a tail on the back of her head, thick framed glasses that match the blue tips you can see on the end of it settled on her nose. 

She's missing her left arm.

You skip down the last couple of stairs and nod. "I am, yes." and hold out the hand that will be the easiest for her to shake. "I believe I know your name, but the proper and polite thing to do is to introduce myself. I am Laleh Nassar."

"Vanessa Sussner." she takes your hand in her own, fingers digging in just a little too tightly. "You look nice."

"Thank you, I had hoped I would." you pull back and smile, gesturing towards the dining room. "Were you left out here to wait for me?" 

"Nah, I volunteered for this." she grins, her nose wrinkling at some joke that only she understands. "I guess I'm just lucky that they're letting me out of their sight now." the stump of her left arm is bandaged, the cloth clean and white. "You would not believe how boring it gets when you're stuck in bed and your family suddenly stops letting you do anything for yourself." 

"...If I may ask, what happened?"

"I got shot a couple times and then had to have it amputated." she cackles. "I nearly fainted in a bar and my lawyer absolutely destroyed a guy's rep as someone who always gets the girl he wants to go home with."

You can feel a small headache forming in your temples. "I could have sworn you were too young to be of drinking age." you choose your words slowly. 

"Oh, totally am." she shrugs, sticking her hand into her pocket. "But I got shot, tracked down the lawyer who was helping me out of a false accusation, then hid in a bar while we waited for a mutual friend to come get our asses and take us to the hospital. Ever heard the name Teresa Marino? She's my lawyer and she's a fucking badass."

"Vanessa!" comes the voice of Misses Sussner. "Language!"

"What, you want me to repeat it in Spanish?" she calls back, absolute glee written all over her face. "Cause I can do that!"

The older of the two sticks her head out the door of the dining room, an eyebrow raised. "I am aware that you can. It is, however, much more polite to- You know what?" she looks at you, smiling apologetically. "Just don't be too rude, alright Spiderbite?"

"Mom!" Vanessa shouts as the woman ducks back into the other room, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She glances at you, her eyes narrowed slightly, and she smiles. "Well, we should probably head into dinner, they-"

"This is going to be a weird question, but do you have a fascination with spiders and the number eight?" you blurt out before she can finish. 

You don't know why you asked, but it seems like those are things connected to her in some unshakeable way. There's something deep in your mind that's telling you that she's familiar, and the image of her with grey skin and horns that remind you of candy is all-too-readily available in your memory. 

"...Spiders and the number eight?" she makes a face, then looks at you again, jaw going slack. "Oh. Oh. OH!"

Before you can ask what is the matter, she grins and promises to be right back, running out of the room before you can say anything. There's something exceedingly familiar about her and you need to remember why, you decide as you wait patiently for her to return. 

When she comes back, it's with her sister at her side, the two of them muttering over something as they walk. "This is Ananda." she says. "I know you guys have probably met before, but this is important, K- 'kay?" she's still grinning. "Ananda knows a girl who has a body that is just begging to have clothing designed for it by you." she pauses, her excitement crumbling for a second. "I mean, if you're up to it."

"I am always up for new models." you feel a bit relieved as you watch the Sussner sisters stand next to each other. They're almost physically opposites, Ananda shorter and curved in all good places, Vanessa tall and built like a twig. Their bodies suit the both of them, and you honestly cannot tell which you think is more attractive. "Is it alright if I ask for the name of this woman?"

Ananda nods and pulls out her phone and a small notebook. "Her name is Rose. I'll also give you her number." she scribbles something down, then pulls it out of the notebook and hands it over. 

The name, 'Rose L.' is written above a suddenly daunting string of numbers. 

"She has a small crafting company, because she knits things, and she's a writer." Ananda explains. "And I think that you would have an inordinate amount of delight in creating things suited to her shape."

You can feel your cheeks flushing and your body is practically trembling as you tuck the paper into the pocket of your pants. "Thank you."

It's a relief when the three of you are called in for dinner. 

 

^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^

)_(_)()_(_)(

 

Your name is Rose LaLonde, and you're expecting a phone call.

You've been waiting for some time now, because when she found you, you already remembered everything. She'd admitted to who she was, who she had been, and you had found yourself giving your phone number to a former troll. 

Honestly, you do not regret it.

She texted you the other day and told you that it had gone to the person it needed to go to.

A part of you wants to go find Kanaya first, wants to make the first move and tell her who you are and what she means to you and a billion other things that you never said when you were in the game with her.

Patience is a virtue, even when you have no others, and you stay where you are. 

You hope that Kanaya wants to find you enough to call you.

 

)_(_)()_(_)(

^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^

 

The paper is in your hands when you return to work a few days later, clutched tightly in your palm as you force yourself to sit down and hold still.

There's too much energy in your body, you want to pace and move and walk until you're exhausted beyond measure. Especially when you start dialling, hands trembling and you're shaking and you don't know why this has you so out of sorts. It's just a potential model, nothing more, nothing less.

Your traitorous brain insists differently, however, and you force yourself to ignore it.

So focused on ignoring it, you nearly miss it when the line opens up, a voice on the other end introducing herself and sounding beautiful. "Rose LaLonde speaking." she says, voice gentle.

"Hello, my name is Laleh Nassar." you start, wincing at how awkward you sound. "I was given your number by a woman named Ananda Sussner and I was told that I should ask you to come be a model." you frown, regretting every word the moment it leaves your lips. "I understand if you do not wish to, I apologize for taking up your time, g-"

"Is there a specific time you want me to come by?" she asks, a hint of laughter in her voice. "I am free almost any time this week."

You're sweating nervously as you pretend to think about it. Every part of you wants her here, wants her in the room now, and you don't know why. "Is today too early?"

"Hmmm..." the sound of flipping papers endears her to you. Not many people use a paper schedule anymore, and it seems so lovely that you cannot help but be drawn to her even more. "I am free for the rest of today, it seems. Unless I have forgotten to mark something down."

She hasn't forgotten, you think. She doesn't tend to forget things."

"I have been given your address by your sister, is that alright?" she asks, "I can be there in about half an hour, if that is alright."

"That would be perfect." you can hear yourself saying, looking around your workspace. "Today will probably just be taking measurements and choosing a color scheme. There is much to be done, but- Ah..." you cut yourself off, chest going tight at the thought of chasing her off by telling her too much about it. "If that is alright with you."

"It's perfect."

"I will see you then."

"Wonderful. I will see you in a short while, Miss Nassar."

The line closes and you're left blushing with a phone in your hand. Your name sounds different from her than from your family.

You might be a little bit in trouble with this whole thing.

As you start tidying up your space, it occurs to you that you haven't even seen a picture of the woman, all you've been given is a vague description that includes 'blonde' and a refusal to let you see anything. Elaheh had gone so far as to put a hand over your face when Vanessa had brought out her phone and showed off a photo. You stand up slowly, pulling a bolt of fabric off the couch, watching somewhat helplessly as more roll down to take it's place. 

Sighing, you push them aside and kneel among them to get at the shelf behind the couch. There's a peg meant to be holding the fabric in place in neat stacks, so that you can see each fabric without having to shuffle them around. 

Sure enough, when you check, there's a broken peg and small shards of wood scattered through the fabrics. 

You stack the bolts next to the couch instead, pulling the ones that remain dangling precariously off the broken shelving unit and sigh once more. You're going to have to get a new one, or repair the old one.

Something in your stomach shifts, and it feels like you're free-falling when a noise comes from behind you. You'd been so preoccupied with the mess that you hadn't noticed the footsteps coming closer, too early to be Miss LaLonde, too heavy for the average woman. Forcing yourself to keep moving as if you hadn't heard it, you bend over to try and see at least the feet of the person in the room with you. When you see what looks to be steel-toed boots, a chill runs down your spine.

Your workspace is not all that big, with just one actual door and a couple of large windows so that you can get sunlight.

Before the intruder can realize that you know they're there, you lunge to the side and grab the baseball bat that Elaheh had insisted you keep in the room with you, swinging it around and up. Whoever it is must have realized what you were doing, because the barrel of the bat only clips the edge of their wrist, but it's enough to get them to back away a little.  
In their hand is a gun, equipped with a silencer.

You've only ever seen them in movies, but the presence of it here and now makes your upper lip pull back in a growl. You can feel your shoulders go tense as you ready your bat, swinging again before they've even settled several paces back. 

This time, you land a firm hit against their stomach.

All of the air punched out of them, you snarl something you think might be in your first language and move forward, pinning them to the ground with one heel-clad foot, the point of it digging in near their throat as you drop all of your weight on their abdomen. 

A knock on the door grabs your attention, and you look up, bat at the ready again. "Hello?"

"Miss Nassar?"

"Miss LaLonde." you feel a swell of panic and choke it down. "If you could come in and call the police, that would be much appreciated."

The door opens slowly and reveals a woman who looks to be about your age. Her blonde hair is cut into a sleek inverted bob that frames her face, dark purple lipstick highlighting the shape of her mouth and black eyeliner making her eyes seem larger and even brighter. "Oh dear." she says, almost sarcastically, one hand to her mouth.

Below you, they squirm, and you pull off the mask they're wearing to reveal the face of a round-cheeked man. "...Please don't hit me with the bat again." he hurries to say.

Rose strides into the room and stops a few feet from you. "What happened?" 

It warms you to realize that there's real worry in her tone, and you gesture at him, still holding the bat. "He was in here and he had a gun." you take her hand when she offers it, kicking his weapon away and watching as it slides into a pile of fabric remnants. "I have a baseball bat."

"Perhaps," she smiles at you, dark lips quirked to the side. "We should get you a chainsaw."

The man visibly pales. "Can I vote no on the chainsaw?"

"No." Rose shakes her head, looking down her nose at him. "You invaded her space, and I am guessing that you are in connection to the history of her family. You get absolutely no say in what sort of weapons she has to defend herself." she turns back to you, eyes bright and pleased, shaking your still joined hands. "Rose LaLonde, Miss Nassar. I am sorry it took me a short time longer than my estimate to get here."

There's something about her that seems achingly familiar.

She always has, even when all you knew was her number and her first name.

There is a whisper on the edge of your awareness, something that seems deep and old, far older than the world itself, and it lodges in your mind and tells you that it is right for her to be here, now. Looking at her, in a muted orange sweater and a red-brown skirt, she seems perfectly suited to be here with you. 

Ananda and Vanessa were right, she is the shape that most of your designs are originally sketched in. You'd be willing to bet that, if you lined them up with her, each curve would match up perfectly.

"Laleh Nassar." you smile at her, bat still swinging from one hand, then nod. "Please, call me Laleh."

"Laleh then." Rose smiles as she feels the weight of your name on her tongue, the syllables almost musical the way she says them. Most people, when they learn your name, cannot even begin to say it without making it flat in the way English speakers do. Kivanc, you've been told, had to coach John for weeks before it sounded right. 

The man beneath you squirms and you retaliate by inching your heel closer to his throat. "Hold still," you whisper, narrowing your eyes at him. "Or this may hurt." an idea begins to form in your mind, and you look over to where your bag is, your phone on the table beside it. "Rose, would you mind terribly much handing me my cellular?"

"Not at all." she says gently as she retrieves it, handing it to you and smiling when your fingers brush. 

You open the camera function on it and take a photo of the man, scrolling down your list of contacts until you reach Carles's name and number. You send it to him with a short message, asking him to show it to Calli. You may not trust her completely, but you are willing to see what information she will give you.

Barely five minutes later, and you have a panicked response from the woman herself.

After reading it, you delete it from your phone and grab your bat again, slamming it firmly into the man's head and nodding in satisfaction as his head falls back against the floor. He still has a pulse, and his breathing is even, but he isn't conscious. "We need to go," you tell Rose, already dialling the police. "There is a threat, and we must respond to it in a manner that does not leave us dead."

Rose nods and takes your hand, following as you head out to your car. 

 

When you get to your car, you drop into the front seats and you drive on autopilot, hands fixed tightly to the steering wheel as you occasionally speak to her.

Her eyes, pink in the light but a strange sort of blue when you look head-on, glimmer with every sentence she speaks. Her hair curls around her face in a way that frames it wonderfully, and you cannot help the treacherous thought that this is who you were meant to be designing clothing for. Rose watches you out of the corner of her eyes, a small smile on her face every once in a while, her pale and delicate hands folded together in her lap.

The feeling that bubbles up in your chest is inescapeable.

Eventually, however, the drive ends as all things must, and you park in front of your mother's house. Elaheh is sitting on the porch, her chin braced in her hands as she watches you pull up and get out. She nods at Rose, then walks over to you and slings an arm around your shoulders. 

"Is everything alright?" she asks, the words hidden in the safety of the language that you both speak, secreted away from those who might be listening in.

You gesture at Rose, then pull out your phone. "I have had to call the police today. Rose was kind enough to assist me in the evasion of those who wish harm on us." you smile at her as her cheeks go pink. She waves off your comment with a smile, stepping closer and offering a hand to your sister. 

"A pleasure to meet you," she says in the same tongue you've spoken since you could speak. "Rose LaLonde."  
Elaheh's grin, already sly and slightly dangerous, grows even wider at the realization that Rose speaks the same as the two of you. She takes the other woman's hand and shakes it once before turning back to you. "We should get inside. Carles and Calli came running over here for some reason, and Kivanc is on his way. Kadri is with his boyfriend, and uncle is in the other room."

"Ah," you swallow nervously. "Is his-"

"Yes." Elaheh pats the top of your head reassuringly. "And when he heard that you'd collapsed a couple of times in the last week, he was worried about you. He used uncle's knowledge of your favorites teas and snacks to bring you a gift basket." she pauses for a moment, letting that sink in. "He is not as terrifying as you think he is, not unless you're on the wrong end of his temper."

You nod, still trying to fight off the pit of fear that rests in the bottom of your stomach. "...He brought me a gift basket?"

"Teas and snacks, yes." Elaheh takes your hand and leads you inside, waving for Rose to follow. "He probably won't say anything when he hands it over, he's somewhat awkward when it comes to interacting with anyone who is not blood related to him or is the one person he is dating. Honestly, he reminds me of Carles in that regard."

The three of you pause to remove your shoes, then head further into the house. 

When you turn the corner to the kitchen, the gentle chatter of conversation dies out slowly, your mother peering at you from over the rim of her mug. Adradrianna is next to her, arms crossed over her chest as she watches every move Aitor makes. 

"Hello girls." greets your uncle, a gentle smile on his face as he rests a hand on Aitor's elbow. "I presume that this is the lovely Miss LaLonde?"

Rose offers him her hand, a smile curling up the edge of her lips. "One of them, at any rate. My cousin is not here at the moment, and my brothers are at work." she turns back to you, her eyes sparkling in the light. "I am assuming that you are her uncle, is that correct?"

He nods, retrieving his hand and leaning back against his lover's side. "It is, yes."

Something clicks in your mind and you remember an unbearable moment of pain, of every inch of your body consumed by fire, and Rose was staring at you from too far away to do anything other than stare back and Kivanc was- Kar- 

You have a brief moment to reflect on how many times you've collapsed into the blackness before your concious thought slips away.

 

"You're starting to remember."

It's the voice of the tall woman, the one with blood dripping from her hair, and she has a hand on your shoulder as you curl up in front of the telescope that allows you a glimpse of Derse.

"I think I am." you answer.

She kneels next to you, her other hand going to your chin and gently leading your gaze up to hers. "Let it happen, don't try to force it back. I think that might be the source of your problems." she searches your face for something, then nods. "You're frustrated, I know, but you need to trust that they'll come back because otherwise you'll be stuck in this endless loop of partial memory and blacking out."

The stars around you twinkle innocently in the darkness and you swallow heavily, hands clenched in the soft yellow fabric of your dress. "There are so many inconsistencies," you try to explain, eyes narrowed as you try to look away.

She doesn't let you go.

"It's not good, my lovely Kanaya." she clucks softly, her tongue hitting the backs of her teeth. "Rose needs you soon, there's something coming, and we can't always be relied upon to step in and be there in a physical sense." her hands are warm as they come to cup your face, the worry in her eyes making you feel more than a little guilty.

"I know, but it's just-" you swallow the words, cheeks heating up in the way that means you're going to start sobbing soon. 

Hands card through your hair, a soft murmur of wind hushing you.

Above you, Derse calls out, a tone of worry as it echoes through the blackness of the sky around you. Prospit hums in return and you can almost feel the moon straining to reach towards it's counterpoint. "You aren't allowed to see her until I remember, are you?"

She pulls back, her eyes watering and wide. "This is true, but it is not the reason I worry."

"Here is where I remember Karkat." you speak softly, heart aching for your moon. "He and the others, all of them, even the humans who were humans before. Conscious thought seems to be easier here, where I am unconscious."

She presses a hand to your forehead, humming as her fingers drum against your skin. You can feel her sorting through things, can feel the sensation of moving boxes around when you first move into a new home. "Your mind is twisted up in guilt and insecurity." she mutters before pulling away. "May I help you with that?"

It's a surprise to hear the question.

Most creatures above human perception would probably dive straight in, without ever pausing to think about permission and without regard for human comfort. 

As if in answer to your thoughts, she smiles. "My lovely one has scolded me for that before." she looks up, fondness in her gaze, at Derse once more. "Order controls Chaos, Chaos controls Order. Without the balance we have struck, the moons fall to pieces and the worlds beyond collapse."

"It is reassuring." you smile at her, a warmth of some kind flooding your chest. "And you may. I would prefer to remember."

"Good." she presses the heel of her hand between your eyes. 

 

When you wake up, you are once more laid out on the couch.

Your name was KANAYA MARYAM, but now you are human and you are named Laleh Nassar. You are the younger sister of Elaheh Nassar, who used to be PORRIM MARYAM. Your mother was once your hero, the Dolorosa, the Mother of the Signless.  
Both of them are sitting in chairs across from you, staring at you while they speak in hushed tones. 

Beyond them are those who you now recognize as the Grand Highblood, Kurloz Makara, Kankri Vantas and a Cherub named Calliope. You clear your throat and everyone in the room turns to look at you. You want to reassure your mother, tell your sister that you are alright, but the very first thing out of your mouth is, "Where is Rose?"

"Laleh, what-" your uncle is looking at you with wide eyes, his mug of coffee clutched in a white knuckled hand. "...Laleh?"

"Kanaya Maryam." you offer the name gently. "I was Kanaya, and now I am still but I am also not her. If you do not mind, I wish to see the woman who I was once in a romantic relationship with, who I wish to be with again."

A hand rests on your shoulder, the soft scent of her perfume wafting closer, and you turn to press a kiss to the back of it. 

"Hello Kanaya." she whispers, her eyes shifting color in the light of the room. 

You look up at her, meet her eyes, then grip the back of the couch and haul yourself upright, pausing for a moment to make sure it's alright before you kiss her lips. She tastes like fruit of some kind, a hint of sugar, when she opens her mouth to kiss you back.

For the first time in what feels like ages, you feel like you've woken up from a too-deep sleep of some kind.

There are other problems that need to be dealt with, other things that need to be done before there is peace, but for right now you are going to cling to this moment. You finally have everything back in place, your sense of balance in the world restored by the reintroduction of your memories.

**Author's Note:**

> I had fun writing this, but goddamn is Kanaya hard to write...


End file.
